Child of Darkness
by TheLuLunatic
Summary: After finishing their main quest the Dragonborn, commonly called Siliver, decides it's time to face something they have been avoiding for a long time.


"We have public disturbance and intoxication, harassment, urinating on a guard, lollygagging," the arresting guard looked up from his scroll at the 'great' Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and his seething Housecarl Galmar Stone-Fist. "Need I continue, My Jarl?" He asked the middle-aged and tired rebellion leader. Ulfric sighed heavily, his pale blue eyes covered by their lids as he massaged his temples with calloused hands. He brushed his pale blonde back from his face before finally opening his eyes too look at the prisoner. Who was none other than Rolff Stone-Fist in his usual drunken state, and had to be completely supported by two guards unlucky enough to be within his cloud of stench. He was a pathetic, racist, drunken excuse of a Nord who pushed his luck of getting away with things because his brother happened to be Ulfric's guard dog.

"Nay." Ulfric answered as he glanced at his Housecarl, who was practically foaming at the mouth, before looking back at the guard. "Two nights in the Bloodworks jail and two days cleaning up the Gr-" he coughed and avoided looking at the hooded figure standing a few feet behind the arresting guard, "the Snow Quarter." Rolff laughed before realizing he was actually getting punished.

"Wuh?!" He yelled struggling against the soldiers' grip as his brother turned toward Ulfric in disbelief. "Yacan't expeect meh to help thooose dirty spies!" Rolff yelled slurring and combining words in his drunken state. Ulfric looked over at his Housecarl who only sighed and smacked his palm against his forehead.

"Make that three days and nights," Ulfric growled. He was not one for having idiots test or question his authority, especially in front of such an esteemed guest.

"You ca-!"

"Shut it, Rolff!" Galmar barked before stepping down from his place beside Ulfric to take his brother from the soldiers. "You proud of yourself, you drunken moron?!" He growled dragging the smaller man toward Bloodworks taking him to his home away from home.

"You have had a busy night," Ulfric said to the soldiers and guard, "go rest up in the barracks." They all bowed simultaneously before heading to the barracks without question. "So what gender are you tonight, Dragonborn?" Ulfric mused before lying back lazily in his throne. His only reply was a throaty chuckle as the hooded figure poured a goblet full of Colovian Brandy.

"Depends," the hooded figure said, taking a sip from the goblet before heading toward the Jarl of Windhelm. They took long, slow, strides to the crown making Ulfric raise an eyebrow and sit up straight. Only thing showing on them were a pair of black leather boots whose clicking heels echoed across the room. "Which do you want me to be?" they chuckled before taking a seat on the arm of Ulfric's throne. They took another sip of brandy before bringing it to Ulfric's lips. He fought a smirk as he let the figure give him a drink of the sweet alcohol, feeling its warmth all the way down his throat.

"What do you want, Silver?" Ulfric asked as he took the goblet from Siliver's gloved hand and then set it down on the table beside his throne.

"Now, why would you think that's why I'm here?" Siliver asked with a small chuckle before leaning across Ulfric's lap to grab the goblet. Ulfric cleared his throat, gripping the arms of his throne as he avoided looking at Siliver. They grabbed the goblet taking a long drink, staying over Ulfric's lap as they did, before turning and stepping down from the throne.

"I _know_," Ulfric stressed the word before clearing his throat, "that's why you're here because that's the only time you pretend you wish to lie with me." Siliver chuckled softly glancing back at Ulfric from underneath the hood as gloved hands slowly moved it back. Siliver's bright ruby eyes pierced into Ulfric's as they dropped the cloak to the floor. Siliver smiled turning back toward Ulfric. Ulfric snorted finishing off the goblet of brandy as he casually looked over the Dragonborn. Their long, ink black, wavy hair was held back by a leather tie with several braids ranging from thick to nearly invisible throughout it, pale beige skin only show on their neck and face, three thick scars slashed across their left cheek of their androgynous face. They wore a loose beige tunic that was belted across their narrow waist, the edge of the shirt just barely concealing what may or may not rest underneath their ash colored tights, a deadly ebony hung from one hip, and a crossbow from the other. "What request will I ultimately be tricked into granting this time?" Ulfric grinned as Siliver bent slightly to readjust the ties in their knee high boot.

"I want you to call off the guards assigned to stalk me within the city." Siliver answered, realizing the flirting wouldn't get them any closer.

"And why on Nirn would I do that?" Ulfric asked raising an eyebrow before looking back at the two guards who had been watching patiently near the main entrance.

"It's none of your concern why." Siliver snapped before pinching the bridge of their nose, "I killed the World-Eater for Gods sake, and I would appreciate a little bit of privacy during the remainder of my visit."

"What are you planning?" Ulfric asked, rightfully suspicious of the half-elf that was known for causing a mess in his city.

"I-I'm not planning anything . . ." Siliver sighed and refused to look at Ulfric, "it's just something I've been avoiding for a while, and with the world not currently being in danger . . ." They sighed again before looking up at Ulfric, "It's just something I am now ready to face and I need to be alone to do it." Ulfric still stared curiously but nodded after a moment of thought. "Thank you." Siliver smiled slyly, "I'll be sure to visit soon to further discuss the mistreatment of my friends and call you out as a pompous ass." They grinned, making Ulfric snort and wave him away. Siliver then bowed and headed past the guards into the frozen city. They kept the cloak folded neatly over their arm as they made their way through the city, citizens making their way home as the snow fell thickly. _They're here_, Siliver thought as they made their way to the house where _they_ thought it all had started. Siliver knew the murder would come back to haunt them and that getting away with it was all too strange to be real. They recalled reading about their grandfather going through a similar predicament as they easily picked the lock to the Aretino Residence, but unlike him . . . _I know what I'm getting into_. . . Siliver thought before slipping into the long abandoned house. They managed to get down the creaking stairs before a sharp pain exploded through the back of their skull, barely managing to gasp before falling into the darkness.


End file.
